


Brighter Than the Stars

by FeralCreed



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Star Wars Spoilers, Star Wars: The Force Awakens Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralCreed/pseuds/FeralCreed
Summary: So basically I got this random little idea that Kylo Ren's mission was not to kill his father, but to bring him back to Snoke for interrogation. And then someone dared me to do my worst.





	Brighter Than the Stars

Kylo Ren's orders had been to take the rebels back to Snoke. General Solo was technically an enemy combatant because he was there to destroy the base, so nothing is unfair when it comes to dealing with a prisoner of war. The whole way back to Snoke, Han freaking Solo was of course unable to keep his mouth shut, but rather than trying to fast-talk his way out of a situation to save his own skin, he's earnestly trying to convince Kylo Ren to a much different end. Until he'd seen Ben on the catwalk, read the internal struggle displayed plainly on his face, he hadn't believed it when Leia said that he was still their son. He'd clung to the idea that there was too much Vader in him, in the most negative of ways, but then he saw that there was a silver lining to that as well. Kylo Ren was, as Vader, an innocent man tricked into the snares of the Dark Side, and longing to break free from a master he dare not yet overthrow.

 

So Han promised him the world, swore that he and Leia still longed for their son to come back home, condensed years of yearning and heartbreak into what felt like only a few minutes. His mouth and throat were dry from the incessant talking, but this was Ben, his son, this wasn't the monster Kylo Ren. And Han remembered the first time he'd held him as a baby, his first words, first steps, first scraped knee. The minutiae that turned a life into a wonder, that had had Han wrapped around his son's finger from the first time that tiny fist had closed around his pinky. But ever since Luke had told them that Ben had turned to the Dark Side, destroyed the temple and killed the other students – the other children – Han had mourned his son as dead. Yet seeing his son clench his hands to hide their shaking, hiding his anguished face behind an impersonal mask, made him realise that Ben was the victim, not the victimizer. So he talked.

 

\---

 

Kylo was determined to not let the words of this Corellian fool worm their way into his head. He was the right hand of the Supreme Leader, the Heir of Vader, Son of Darkness, the Black Knight, the Jedi Killer. The words of one lone fool had no place in the empire he'd built for himself. An empire of death and ruin, teaching those who fled before his telltale red saber that there was nowhere he could not find them. Run though they may, the Light's Bane would cloak himself in shadow and plunge his blade to their hearts when they thought themselves most safe.

 

He would not waste his pain for nothing. The crying, screaming, weak child that Ben Solo had been, fleeing from the master that had betrayed him with wide, terrified eyes... that boy was as dead as the villagers he'd ordered destroyed out just a few days ago. Despite the repeated and irritating pull of the Light Side, Kylo Ren had conquered any obstacle put in his path and had returned to the Dark after every dalliance. He had given himself up to Snoke each time, submitted himself to whatever punishment that his master saw most fitting and held his screams behind his teeth as best he could.

 

Those nights of sobbing in his cell, flinching at every noise and movement, were not Imperial credits to be tossed around by the fistful. They were dark and shameful memories, moments of weakness. Every night of starvation, every rasping sob, every high-pitched keen of terror, every cry of “I'm sorry, Supreme Leader, please, no, please”, they were all buried deep inside him. He owed his strength to Snoke, to the master that had been able to shape his weak nothingness into a weapon of terror, serving his will. And he had no right thinking otherwise, no right to even consider listening to General Solo's words. It would be a betrayal.

 

Ben Solo might have considered it. Kylo Ren was a twisted creature born of pain and hate and darkness. Love was unfamiliar to him, as were all the other silly little sentiments that the general was trying to prey on. He was a soldier, a weapon – and he would be as hard and unforgiving as the blade of a sword. Monsters had no place in their hearts for weakness; it made them inefficient, and inefficiency was punished or terminated. Ren himself had been called on to deal with such failures before, often children, and had not allowed himself to show the weakness in his heart by sparing them. Snoke had placed them before him as a test, and Ren loved no one enough to bring himself pain for their sake, no matter their pleas, no matter the nightmares...

 

Ren shook himself slightly, gloved hands tightening into fists. This was no time for failure. Despite being delivered his prize of war, Snoke would have no leniency for him if he showed the slightest weakness. He would deliver General Solo. He would stand unflinching as the screams of yet another damned innocent rang in his ears and brought bile to his mouth. And then he would turn and fulfill his duty as Snoke's dog of war, and rain destruction upon the lingering, festering remains of the Rebellion. He would not spare them, he would not allow himself weakness despite the tears that so often threatened his eyes at the needless destruction. He would not think of his mother among the twisted, burning bodies or her voice among their deathly wailings.

 

\---

 

Han could sense the moment he lost Ben's focus. Rather than being angry that he wasn't given the time of day by his son, he fell quiet and simply waited. Ben had always been far more patient than he had, Leia's temperament countering Han's own reckless independence. Any attempt at forcing his son would not do either of them any favours, including efforts at making Ben pay attention to him. They'd learned that on the very first day of his schooling... and the memory still made Han smile fondly. Some teacher had thought they could outmaneuver six-year-old Ben and had learned differently very quickly. Leia had given him a lecture on manners and Han had slipped him a cookie at dinner. Even though Ben hadn't taken his mother's reprimands to heart in the slightest, the clear grin at seeing a reward was worth them both being scolded. They'd looked so alike in that long ago moment. Long legs, scruffy hair, unabashed smile. Now Han could barely see the resemblance to either himself or his wife in Ben's face. Only the pain of Leia's nightmares of Alderaan reflected in his son's gaze.

 

The rest of the flight to the base was quiet. Ben had shut himself off from him, and Han could only wait for him to be even the slightest bit more receptive before he spoke again. Otherwise he'd only be wasting his breath, and driving Ben further from him. So the next time either of them spoke was as Ben piloted the craft into the beginning of its descent. Even Han had to admit that the base was terrifying in its proportions and activity. While he doubted he'd be seeing much of it besides an interrogation chair, it was clear that the thing was built to be effective in not only physically but emotionally destroying its opposition. Even though he didn't want to admit it, Han was afraid of the thing, of the feeling of pure evil and power that exuded from its every panel. It radiated the fear and suffering of its prisoners, and the twisted strength of the Dark Side. But for Han, it turned from horrifying to joke-worthy.

 

“Geez, think he's overcompensating for something?” he joked. He could feel a bright, brief flare of amusement from Ben – just the same as when he'd been small enough for Han to scoop him up in his arms or set him on his shoulders. Ben had loved doing that at night, loved reaching out as if he could touch the stars. And then the feeling vanished, and Ben shoved him forward toward the ramp of the ship with a hard, sharp movement. Han got the message, and shut up and started moving. The place seemed like it would be easy to get lost in, and by the time Ben pushed him into an elevator, he had no idea which way they'd come from. But while Ben was silent, he was receptive again, Han knew it. This was his last chance to try to get through to him before Snoke set them apart.

 

“Benny,” he started, and paused. No. This was not the time for last-minute pleas, and even if it were, he was no wordsmith like Leia. Ren's dispassionate mask faced him, and Han wished he could have any clue to what his son was feeling. “Your mama and I... our love still shines more brightly than all the stars.” It was something they'd told Ben before bed every night, a phrase that had come from some children's book he'd loved as a toddler. He'd learned to read from listening to Han's steady voice every night, one of his fingers running along the page under each word. Ben's hand had rested on top of his every time, touch feather-light, so unlike the hard fists he formed now.

 

\---

 

Kylo Ren was not listening. And yet the memories came flooding back. Sunny afternoons in a flowering meadow. A woman's rich laughter. Complaining until he was picked up and held high, twirled around until his blood sang. Warm arms at night. The feeling of unconditional love. He swayed on his feet for a moment, unsure. It had been so long since he'd felt that, and it was... stronger than any punishment that Snoke could have threatened him with. For a moment he was weaker than he'd ever been in his life, and he should be furious about it, should be closing it off before the Supreme Leader or General Solo could discover it.

 

But it had been so long. Since he'd felt fingers comb through his hair, since he'd nuzzled into a calming and loving touch rather than flinching back from violence. It had not taken long to teach him to fear all human contact, to avoid the pain it brought. Of course, he would never admit to his weakness. He simply desired to avoid damaging the Empire's weapon, to crack the cogs of the machine that fulfilled its orders. After all, no ten soldiers could take his place on the battlefield. His skill in the Force made him valuable, and his volatile outbursts made him fierce. Snoke approved of it, and though Ren would not admit to it, he was effectively a snarling dog held on a tight leash.

 

His hand dropped to the lightsaber at his waist, fingers clenching around it. The strength of the kyber crystal within hummed against his glove. Cracked and unstable, just like him... Mentally, he jerked back from that intrusive thought, shutting it off violently. There was no parallel between himself and his saber besides their effectiveness as a weapon for the Empire. Snoke had used it to slaughter the other children from Skywalker's temple before giving it to him, the blade still hot and bloodthirsty. Ben Solo shouldn't have been able to stand there and listen to their terrified screams, shouldn't have taken the saber and learned to kill with it himself. But he had, the blood of his best friend spattered across his face and on his tongue, and knelt before his master.

 

The violence of Snoke's Force lightning flung him back against the wall. Ren couldn't hold back a slight whimper as he fell to the floor, hauling himself back up despite the stabbing pain of broken ribs. His gaze flicked rapidly around the room, locating each of the guards. One of Snoke's favourite pastimes was still to injure Ren before pitting him against the entirety of the guard, attacking at will. While he was stronger each time, while no beating had even remotely approached that first lesson, the same fear and hate renewed within him each time to fiery purpose. It seemed as though he was not the current target beyond that initial, necessary movement to gain his attention. With a jolt, he realised he'd stood there motionless in the lift despite its open doors, and presumably though Snoke had spoken to him.

 

Refraining from limping, he pushed Solo ahead of him into the throne room. “Supreme Leader Snoke,” he stated. He forced the older man to his knees in front of the throne, pushed his head forward so the insolent dog wouldn't try to stare down his superior. “I have brought the rebel who attempted to destroy the base. His companions escaped the base but should be recovered shortly by our aerial forces.” No doubt Snoke already knew that, had already subtly entered Ren's brain to search for the information he wanted regarding the mission. Ren had learned long ago that resistance was futile and incredibly painful. He kept his right hand around the saber and his left fisted in the back of Solo's jacket, keeping the prisoner in place. It also conveniently kept his hands from shaking.

 

\---

 

“General Solo,” Snoke mused, leaning back in his throne.  
  
“You bastard,” Han snarled back. “You _dare_ hurt my boy-” He choked on the sudden pressure against his throat, against the invisible hand preventing him from breathing. His vision started going black, body slumping back against Ben's legs, when it finally lifted. Coughing harshly, throat aching, he stared up at Snoke with uncertain fear in his eyes. While he knew of the many abilities a user of the Light Side could wield, he was largely unfamiliar with the Dark and its evils. Yet Snoke was an accomplished Force user, and while Han didn't see the telltale Sith eye colour, he had no doubt that that was exactly what this being was.

 

“I see that you have no intentions of using the manners that even a base creature such as yourself should be able to provide. Should you intend to make an enemy of me, General Solo, then I have no reason to keep you intact.”

 

The silence stood between them for a long moment before Han's answer came, raspy words from between gritted teeth. “ _Fuck_ you for what you've done to my son.”

 

Snoke did not speak again, and the next sound was Han's screams of utter agony resounding around the room.

 

\---

 

It had been years since Ren had flinched at the sound of torture. He was far too skilled at withdrawing information by seeing inside someone's mind with the Force to need to resort to crude physical means. But occasionally Snoke wished him to prove himself, sometimes in front of his other heads of war, but sometimes to simply provide an accompaniment in his hours of boredom. Ren had painted elegant descriptions of terror in blood and viscera, exposing bones and organs to the unfeeling cold of the throne room with practiced efficiency. It was his responsibility, and should he refuse, he would only take his victim's place. There was no usefulness to that.

 

So he stood there in stoic silence as his father writhed and screamed at his feet, shaking limbs brushing against his boots. He was perfectly aware of Snoke's abilities in the Force, and so he knew that this was a punishment for Han as much as it was an extraction of information. Han Solo had challenged the Supreme Leader and would pay for his insolence with his sanity, and then his life. Ren had seen it happen many times. But it had never been to someone he'd once felt so much for. While Ben Solo was dead, his presence remained annoyingly strong in times like these.

 

He was surprised to feel a tear streak down his face, despite the cover his mask afforded. While he'd been known to suffer momentary weakness a few times over the years, he had never failed like this. He had never been frozen in his emotion, never trembled with pain and uncertainty. A flash of pity, that was acceptable, but this? This sudden, bone-deep, desperate desire to save one of the Supreme Leader's victims? It was unheard of, and Ren fought the instinct to drop to one knee beside the suffering man and confess his lapse to the Light to his master.

 

It would be dangerous for him. Once Snoke began hurting someone, his bloodlust increased to a frenzy, like any predator circling a struggling, defenseless animal. Ren would not be able to stop this from happening if he tried. Ben screamed for any chance to do something to save his father, breaking down the barriers that Ren had built up to protect himself from the emotional and mental fallout of causing so many deaths. This was no time to be failing the Supreme Leader, on the verge of destroying the Rebellion and securing the rule of the Empire, and yet looking down on Han's face caused him pain. At first Ben was infuriated by his own weakness, then at Snoke for harming his father – for harming the man that had protected and coveted his family above all else – and then his anger faded into pained resignation. Han Solo was dying and there was no use in joining him.

 

Ben could do nothing to save his father. Yet he slipped through the door that Snoke had left wide open, set out looking for his own set of memories. Far older ones than any details of the current Rebel ships or bases. A wedding day, a firstborn, a father's overwhelming love. It had been the strongest guiding presence in Ben's life until he'd gone to Luke's temple, and he had never realised it until now. Until it was far too late, until his father was clutching one gloved hand in both of his and sobbing blindly in his pain. Ben had no idea when he'd fallen to one knee, or which of them had reached out to clasp the other's hand.

 

 _I'm sorry, Papa._ He didn't dare speak the words aloud, but pushed them into Han's mind, where Snoke would have no reason to dig. Just a few moments later, the screams died into agonised, panting sobs. Ben froze, instinctively fearing Snoke's punishment, fearing that he had discovered Ben's actions. Yet the Supreme Leader remained arrogant as always, and ignored both of them to sift through the information he'd gathered from Han's mind. As usual, he held no regard for the victim whom he had destroyed mentally, leaving the body little more than a shell on the floor to be disposed of in whatever fashion his whims demanded. Usually Ben wouldn't care, Ren wouldn't care, but this time...

 

“Ben,” Han mumbled, delirious and barely able to form the words. “Benny – our love – my love – brighter than the stars.” His disjointed words nearly tore an agonised noise from Ben's own mouth, but he gritted his teeth and refused to give in. He'd already fallen too far...

 

“Kill him,” Snoke ordered, disinterested now. He'd taken what he could from General Solo and had no more use for him. And naturally he held no doubt for his apprentice.

 

Ren did not hesitate to ignite his saber, kneeling above Solo's prone form. Yet he paused before delivering the killing blow, just a moment as he stared down at Han's face. Moved by sudden regret, he turned off his saber and reached up to remove his helmet, slowly, each movement calculated to hide his intense agony. “He should see my face,” he said, words measured and cold - again hiding the truth behind what was expected of him. With the helmet clenched in one fist, he pointed the blade of the saber at Han's chest and again ignited the red flame.

 

Han arched up into the blade, but this time no scream tore from his mouth. Instead it curved into a faint smile, as he reached up to touch the side of his son's face. _It'll be okay, Benny._ He'd heard the words so many times before, the standard match to that gesture, and for a wild moment he wanted to clutch that hand to him and beg his father's forgiveness.

 

 Instead Kylo Ren stood and faced the Supreme Leader, saber still burning fiercely in his hand. “Long live the Empire.”

 


End file.
